


Beautiful Noise

by webcricket



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 00:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10842414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: 1st Cas-iversary drabble request by anonymous – “Unshaven Human!Cas realizing that his s/o is really ticklish when his beard brushes their neck and then using it to tickle them until they beg for mercy because he loves their laugh.” Prickly scruffs = fluffy stuffs when you wake up in the morning with a now human Cas.





	Beautiful Noise

Castiel slowly blinked to awareness, awakened by the gentle stirring of your restive body tucked within his arms, blue eyes gradually adjusting to the dim light emanating from the bedside lamp, shade half-shrouded in an unidentifiable piece of hastily discarded clothing from the amorous activities of the preceding night. Both the peaceful waking and the softness of bare skin pressed warmly to his own were novel sensations to the onetime angel. Inhaling deep, the piquant scent of sex, dried sweat, and the lingering fragrance of your flowery shampoo mingled to pleasingly flare his nostrils. He drew you tighter to his chest, burying his nose into your hair, breathing you in, committing the full array of new perceptions to memory – determining then that being robbed of his grace, being forcibly turned human, definitely had an upside.

“Cas,” you sleepily murmured, reaching back to run your fingers through his already tousled hair, a languid smile playing upon your lips.

“Good morning,” he disentangled a limb to smooth the hair behind your ear, peppering a trail of light kisses along the delicate flesh below your ear, nuzzling his stubbly chin into the sensitive crook of your neck.

“C-Cas!” you giggled wildly, squirming and squealing at the ticklish attention.

The sweet bubbling carefree quality of your laughter captivated him, setting his bounding heart aflutter – never before had he heard so beautiful a sound. Enthralled by the delightful clamor, he ceased his onslaught.

Panting, you seized on his moment of rapt stillness, writhing in his slackening grasp. Rolling over to face him, your fingers ensnared the curls at his nape to hold any further prickly affection at bay as you gasped to catch your breath.

Reflecting your blissful smile, gleaming eyes softened by utter adoration when they met yours, a tentative chuckle-like noise rumbled within his chest. This, too, was a foreign experience – the involuntary thrill of happiness squeezing insistently at his ribcage, demanding release.

Relaxing your defenses, fingers slipping to trace invisible lines across the muscular planes of his shuddering torso, the upward curve of your mouth widened in realization of what was happening.

Cas matched your glowing expression, the skin around his nose and eyes crinkling convulsively, mouth dropping open in unrestrained laughter – the husky tone of his mirth vibrating the air of the small room.

“Good morning to you, too,” you snuggled to his shaking frame, letting his euphoric laughter shudder through you, holding him fast as the heaving of his chest subsided. Lifting your head, tilting your countenance toward him, you found yourself swimming in a shining sea of blue.

Hooking a finger beneath your chin, he barely brushed your pink flushed lips with his - feather light in their caress, he softly hummed words in an ancient tongue. In the humid undulating heat of his breath ghosting over your mouth he confessed his love - muttering a whole sermon of his enduring devotion.

While you didn’t understand the words, there existed no doubt in your mind as to their meaning.

He ended his fervent testament with a passionate kiss - pliant chapped lips tenderly moving with yours, nose burrowing into your cheek, rough tongue sweeping and begging pardon to deepen the kiss, mouths reluctantly separating every so often to sigh and gasp for air before fervently crashing together again to explore each other’s taste. Sucking and emancipating your kiss-bruised lower lip, he nipped a trail of small bites along the line of your jaw.

Fingers clutching at his broad shoulders, head lolling to the bed as he eased you onto your back, the prickle of his beard forgotten, you freely offered up your neck.

His mouth latched onto your pulse point, groaning into and lavishing a round red mark of worship on the skin thereupon.

“Cas,” sensitive flesh again scratched and tickled by his unshaven scruff, you dug imploringly at his shoulders, palms skimming to shove at his chest, wriggling and giggling in glorious protest of the ticklish barrage, you mewled, “C-Cas! Mercy! That t-tickles!”

He smirked and chuckled against your tingling skin, propping himself up on an elbow, aspect glinting mischievously as he gazed into your pleading watery eyes, “But how can I resist when you make such a beautiful noise?” Before you could object further, he grabbed and pinned your wrists uselessly over your head with his free hand, and leaning down, resumed his ticklish bombardment – the harmonious song of your laughter filling his heart to bursting with joy.


End file.
